The Perfect Crime

The Reality You Leave me With

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, pls don't kill me *cough especially because this book wouldn't be finished if you guys did cough.* Anyways, enjoy the chapter okay? I've been busy, but I managed to write it for you guys! ;)

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After we both drank the dark caffeine, mine too strong for Toby to handle and Toby's too weak for me to tolerate, my gaze falls on the clock hanging to one of the loft's walls. I hop off of the cushioned seat, shooting Toby an apologetic look. "I really had a nice time, Toby, but I've got to head home. I wish I could stay, but the clock disagrees with me." I glance down at my body, swinging the loft door open. "I'll return the shirt tomorrow, I promise." I claim, nearly half my way out the door. "Keep it, you look better in it than I do." I can hear the smirk in his voice as I completely disappear out into the hall without replying to Toby. The sound of the door slamming echoes throughout the silent and empty hallways; knocking me back into reality. My lonely reality that I'll face at its greatest the minute I step into the house that has never felt like a home. My home is a space I turn to when there is no other place to go. /That/ could never be a home. Not to me.

I pull up into my driveway, mildly shocked to see my parents' cars in the driveway. They were never really home, but when they were, they took every chance they could to make me feel unwanted; unneeded. Either way, I end up alone.... and I'm really good at being alone.

Upon walking into the house, I'm greeted with nothing but yelling bouncing off the walls. Pointless fights that are never won. Wars always left with no victories. Parents always leaving. I drag myself across the living room; once again ignoring my quarreling parents in the kitchen. A habit. It's a habit. Getting as far away as possible from the crossfire; the battlefield. Praying that neither of them decide to attack. Failing and being incorrect. It's a habit. It's a battle. A battle I'll never win.

I inch towards the stairs; ready to travel up them and hide in the confines of my room; the confines of my journal. I am so ready, but my parents have other ideas. "Hey, Spencer." Peter calls, effectively putting a pause on the argument. There's a smile on his lips. It's forced. I hate everything about it. I roll my chocolate brown hues before turning around to face my parents. "Hey..." I respond, stuffing my hands into my back pockets. "Who's shirt is that?" Veronica butts in; demanding an answer. It's a need; a need to yell at somebody else. I visibly give my orbs another another roll.  It's not like she really cares anyways. "Mine." I answer harshly, challenging them to disagree. "Don't lie to us, Spencer!" My dad demands; anger towards me evident on his features. I scoff, our intense gaze growing. "'Don't lie'?! Lying is all we ever do in this family. It's right there next to 'Don't tarnish the perfect name of Hastings' on the list of things to do in order to stay in this family." I counter bitterly, sarcasm drenching my every word. "Spencer Hastings, you do not get to talk to us like that!" My father booms, infuriation taking over his features quicker than the plague spread. A bitter laugh falls from my brims. "Sarcasm is the native tongue in our family." I turn on my heel, stomping up the stairs in utter anger.

'Slam!'

There goes the door.

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A/N: One more thing guys! You have got to check out CuriousTroian 's new story, "Spoby One - Shots"! The first chapter is up, & omf it is literally amazing and ughhh.

Until we meet again,
- Marissa 🐋

Ps: CuriousTroian is obsessed with the whale emoji, so I figured I'd sign off with it after my name this time!! I'll go back to pizza after this chapter, since we all know that's what you guys come here to see ;) , I promiseee.